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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29382792">Poems</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyCase5150/pseuds/CrazyCase5150'>CrazyCase5150</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shades of Magic - V. E. Schwab</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:15:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>557</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29382792</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyCase5150/pseuds/CrazyCase5150</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Short poems about The Six</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Winter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A poem about Holland.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cold.</p><p>Colder than ice. </p><p>His expression nearly never changes, always hard and calculating.</p><p>He hardly speaks. </p><p>He rarely smiles. </p><p>He never laughs. </p><p>His hair used to be black as a midsummer's night, now it's white as snow. </p><p>Haunted by his past, he trains his green eyes on the floor so no one sees the sadness behind them.</p><p>Nightmares wrack his body in his sleep, twin monsters and blades and betrayal.</p><p>He's so familiar with brutality that if someone bothers to wake him from a dream, he throws them to the floor before he's even awake.</p><p>Cold. </p><p>Colder than ice.</p><p>His words are hardly ever anything but cruel, sharp, and harsh.</p><p>He hardly speaks.</p><p>He rarely smiles.</p><p>He never laughs.</p><p>His soul used to hold fire, now it's colder than the bite of cutting winter wind. </p><p>Haunted by his kills, he counts them one by one every morning and apologizes to each, whether he knew their names or not. </p><p>Scars layer his body, like a second skin of bloody stories bared to anyone that sees them.</p><p>He's so tired of living, that when the last person to care about him takes him home, he sits under a tree in the snow, and breathes his last, yet with peace he's never known before. </p><p>His skin goes cold.</p><p>Colder than ice.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Flame</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A poem about Kell.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hair the color of autumn leaves. </p><p>One eye the color of summer sky, the other darker than untold secrets. </p><p>He's tired. </p><p>He's forgotten what it's like to laugh, the ability wiped away along with his life before unwilling servitude. </p><p>He's scared.</p><p>He's terrified of losing anyone to anything because he's never had more than four people that loved him.</p><p>He's irritable. </p><p>He's just about had it with everyone needling at him and testing his patience, and eventually he's going to snap.</p><p>Skin the color of tea creamer.</p><p>His smiles are rare, but like lamplight, comforting in your darkest moments.</p><p>He's selfless.</p><p>Rather than let him die, he jumped into a river for a man who hated him, he went back for a woman who robbed him, and he tolerated his brother unknowingly taking advantage of his strength to go gallivanting about the city.</p><p>He's strong.</p><p>Twice has he saved the life of his brother, sixteen long years he had served an uncaring king and queen, and he's continued to love despite no one bothering to do the same in return for him, even after all he's given for them.</p><p>He's brave.</p><p>When he fought the demon who wreaked havoc on his home with the body of a man he never forgave himself for killing, he found his way back to the pirate who took his life from him, and found the will to move on.</p><p>Heart truer than the stars.</p><p>Soul warmer than that of a raging bonfire.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Flora</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A poem about Ojka.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Red.</p><p>Her hair is the color of blood welling from a cut.</p><p>Sharp.</p><p>A slash is down her face, brow to lips.</p><p>Symbolic.</p><p>She guarded her king for months despite his strength.</p><p>Brave.</p><p>She took the burden of the darkened eye.</p><p>Graceful.</p><p>Her blades dance on strings, her movements fluid.</p><p>Strange.</p><p>Her left eye bleeds black ink tears down her cheek.</p><p>Reverent.</p><p>When the icy skies of her home turned blue, she spent hours staring.</p><p>Rose.</p><p>Once prickly and pale, and now just as dangerous, but blooming, and catching every eye.</p>
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